


Only In the Movies

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universes, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot, Romance, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two scenarios that only happen in movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only In the Movies

## Only In the Movies

#### by Spikedluv

Author's website: <http://spikedluv.net>  
Jim and Blair belong to me. *shifty eyes* What do you mean, they don't belong to me?!!  
Written October 21, 2005 for Sentinel Thursday Challenge #113: Forty Things That Only Happen In Movies. One AU scenario.  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

*13. If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange noises wearing their most revealing underwear.* 

Blair heard a noise outside the loft. He grabbed the remote and went to the doorway to turn down the stereo in the living room, then listened intently to see if he would hear the noise again. Goose bumps broke out on his skin when he heard a scratching at the front door. Swallowing hard, he tiptoed across the kitchen. His heart leapt into his throat when the door knob jiggled. 

"Sandburg, damn it! I know you're in there, will you unlock this door, I've got my hands full!" 

Blair sagged with relief. Heart pounding a mile a minute, he unlocked the door and pulled it open for Jim who was carrying three bags of groceries in his arms. 

"Sorry, Jim, I didn't know that was you," Blair said, hoping Jim wouldn't realize exactly what his elevated heart rate meant. 

Jim set the bags on the counter and Blair quickly grabbed one of them so it didn't tip over. He started unbagging the groceries as Jim went back to drop his keys into the basket and hang his jacket up. Jim was grinning when he got back to the kitchen and began putting away the groceries Blair was setting on the counter. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

"Tell me." 

"Really, it's nothing." 

"That's not a nothing grin, Jim," Blair said, brandishing the dishwashing liquid threateningly. 

Jim snatched the bottle out of Blair's hand and set it out of reach on the counter before sliding up close to Blair and placing his hand on Blair's ass. "You always investigate strange noises wearing your most revealing underwear?" 

Blair blushed when he remembered that he'd put on the sheer black lace briefs that a friend had once bought him as a gag gift, and that they were all that he was wearing. "Uh, no, not always, man." 

"I like 'em. Are they new?" Jim curled his fingers up under the lace. 

Blair's breath caught. "N-no." 

Jim nuzzled Blair's neck as he slid his hand beneath the lace to squeeze Blair's bare ass cheek. "You didn't buy these just for me?" 

"No, sorry." Blair's voice hitched. "B-but I was thinking of you when I put them on." 

"Were you?" Jim's free hand cupped Blair's erection. 

Blair groaned. "Yeah. And also, I was out of clean underwear." 

Jim laughed against Blair's neck and he shivered. "That sounds more plausible." His laughter cut off and his voice turned husky. "Gonna let me suck you off in these? Suck you off through the lace?" 

"Shit." 

Jim's fingers found the cleft of Blair's ass as he used his thumb and one finger to stroke up and down Blair's cock. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive spot at the ridge and Blair's knees nearly buckled. 

"Oh, god, Jim." He reached for Jim's shoulders to hold himself up. 

Not letting go of Blair, Jim guided him over to the living room. When the back of his legs finally hit the couch, Blair nearly toppled back, pulling Jim down with him. Jim chuckled as he extricated himself. He arranged Blair the way he wanted him, and then knelt between his knees. He splayed both hands over Blair's groin, rubbing and stroking, his eyes locked on the sight of Blair's cock straining at the lace. 

Jim ran his hands up Blair's torso, curling his fingers into Blair's chest hair, teasing his nipples, and tugging gently on the nipple ring. He lowered his head and breathed on Blair's cock before laving his balls through the lace. Once he was comfortable with the way the lace fit Blair, Jim pressed his face against Blair and took his balls into his mouth one at a time, and sucked. 

Blair grabbed at the cushions and the back of the couch, anything to ground himself as Jim's touch made him feel like he might fly apart. 

Jim released his balls and licked up the length of his cock. 

Blair writhed beneath his ministrations, the feel of the lace against him more of a turnon than he'd thought possible. 

Jim came to his head and sucked around it, taking as much of it as he could into his mouth while it was still constrained by the lace. 

Blair whimpered and reached for Jim's shoulder. "Jim, man, please." 

Jim stroked Blair's perineum through the lace, and then moved back further until he was rubbing his finger over and around Blair's hole. 

Blair's hips jerked and he moaned as the sensations washed through him. 

Jim pressed his tongue against the sensitive spot at the ridge as he pressed his finger against Blair's opening. 

"Jim, Jim." 

Jim's finger wiggled against Blair and he sucked harder, and Blair's entire body stiffened. He let out a strangled cry as his hips jerked and he came in his underwear while Jim sucked him as if he could get all of his come if he just sucked hard enough. 

When Blair became too sensitive, he pushed at Jim's head until Jim lifted it and crawled onto the couch and over Blair to claim his lips in a hungry kiss. 

"Sorry," Jim said when he pulled back. 

"Sorry?" Blair knew he didn't have two working brain cells at the moment, but he figured he'd know if Jim had done something he should be sorry about. "What're you sorry about?" 

Jim plucked at the lace. "Now you don't have any clean underwear," he said with an evil grin. 

"Oh, yeah." Blair sighed. "Guess I'll just have to go commando." 

He watched Jim's eyes glaze over. 

_35\. During all police investigations it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once._

Jim stood in front of Simon's desk. "The witness, Harriet Moon, said this Blair worked at the Cha Cha Club over on Pearl Street." 

"She's a stripper?" Simon looked apoplectic. 

Jim shrugged. "Harriet didn't say, just said she worked there." 

"Great, just what we need, another unreliable witness. The defense is gonna have a field day with this one, and that's assuming we can even get it before a jury." 

Jim remained silent and let Simon work through his irritation. After four years in Major Crime, he knew better than to make himself a target for Simon's ire. 

Simon finally stopped pacing and looked at Jim in disgust. "All right," he said. "Go find Blair and see what she knows. If she can't help us, we might have to kick this scumbag back out onto the street." 

* * *

Jim flashed his badge under the bartender's nose. "I'm looking for Blair." 

The bartender didn't look impressed; he continued to mix drinks and hand them out. "Why?" 

"Just need to talk. Look," he said when it seemed like the bartender was going to string him along, "don't make this any harder than it is. I just need to ask some questions. But if you'd prefer, I could just sit here and wait, look around a bit, maybe find something suspicious that would warrant a call to...." 

"All right." The bartender picked up a piece of paper and glanced at it. "You're in luck," he said. "Blair's up next." 

Music started playing and the crowd went wild, chanting, "Blair, Blair, Blair." Jim turned around to face the stage and watched the curtains part and Blair step out onto the stage. His jaw nearly hit the floor when he realized that Blair wasn't a woman, and he couldn't take his eyes off him. 

* * *

"So," Jim said, looking around the dressing room and trying not to stare at Blair, "you're a stripper." 

"Two nights a week," Blair said as he cleaned the makeup off his face. 

"What do you do the other nights?" 

Blair looked at Jim in the mirror. "You looking for a private party?" 

"Christ, Sandburg, I'm a cop!" 

Blair shrugged. "You're pretty naive if you thing that makes a difference." 

"Look, kid, I'm not naive...." 

"And I'm not a kid, tough guy. Now why don't you ask me those questions you came here to ask me." 

"How do you know what I'm here for?" 

Blair's lips curved up in a smile. "Because when you cornered me backstage you said, 'Cascade PD, I need to ask you some questions'," he said, imitating Jim's deep voice. 

"Oh, right." Jim hated that this kid made him forget what he was supposed to be doing. 

"Besides," Blair went on, "Harriet told me that she gave you my name. I just, you know, didn't expect you to show up here." 

"Well, since this is where Harriet told us you worked, this is where I came." 

Blair grinned. 

Jim snapped. "What?" 

"Nothing." 

Jim braced one hand on the counter in front of Blair and the other on the back of his chair and leaned into Blair's personal space. "I think you'd better tell me." 

Instead of acting intimidated, Blair's grin widened. "I think Harriet was having a little fun at your expense, making you come here and all." 

"Why would she do that?" 

"Harriet doesn't really like cops. Especially the big ones who think they can intimidate you with their size." 

Blair stood up, his body brushing against Jim's, and then moved away from the makeup counter. "I need to take a shower," he said, pushing his robe off his shoulders and shimmying out of the only piece of clothing he'd kept on stage. He tossed the g-string at Jim who caught it reflexively. "You can buy me dinner, and I'll answer all your questions." 

* * *

"You work at Rainier? University?" Jim's tone was incredulous. "As what, a janitor?" 

"That's harsh, man," Blair said when he finished chewing. He took a sip of his drink and put it back down before looking at Jim. "And I don't actually work there, I'm a student." 

"A student?" 

"Anthropology. I'm a grad student, working on my PhD." 

"PhD?" Jim felt like he'd entered the Twilight Zone. 

"Yeah. Are you gonna eat that?" Blair pointed at Jim's plate. Jim pushed it closer to Blair and Blair snagged half the sandwich Jim had ordered and started eating. "Thanks, I'm starving, man," Blair said with his mouth full. 

"Stripping takes a lot out of you, huh?" 

"Yeah, that too, but usually I just forget to eat." 

"So, Rainier?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What does a grad student do?" 

Blair shrugged as he snagged a fry off Jim's plate. "Take classes, teach, research, write." 

"So why're you doing this?" 

"Stripping?" Jim nodded, reaching for a fry. "The grants help, but they're not enough." 

"You mean you haven't found some sugar daddy to pay your way?" 

Blair snorted. "I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, and besides, I'm a stripper, not a whore." 

"I didn't know there was a difference," Jim said, and regretted it the moment the words were out if his mouth, even before he saw the flash of hurt in Blair's eyes. 

Blair slid out of the booth and stood. "Maybe you should just give me your card and we can finish this up tomorrow at the station." 

"Blair, wait...." 

"Here's my card," Blair said, fishing his wallet out and tossing a card on the table in front of Jim. "You can call me to...." 

Jim grabbed Blair's wrist. "Blair, I'm sorry. That was...totally out of line, and I don't even know why I said it. I didn't...I didn't mean it." 

Blair's eyes softened as he stared into Jim's. "You know," he said, trying to smile, "this keeps up, you're gonna be buying me a lot of dinners." 

Jim's thumb caressed the inside of Blair's wrist. "I think I'd like that," he said. 

* * *

End 

Only In the Movies by Spikedluv: spikedluv@usadatanet.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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